


Magic Item Please

by HanzoTitmada



Series: Magic Item Please [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Cock Cages, Double Penetration, Dual Dicks, Getting Together, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Magic, Nipple Piercings, Non-Human Genitalia, Pre-Relationship, Rimming, just a little, mentions of bondage, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25391875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanzoTitmada/pseuds/HanzoTitmada
Summary: Aranos is getting tired of Giramar getting them in difficult situations. If only the half-dragon would stop thinking about things dick-first, maybe they wouldn't always be narrowly avoiding trouble!No, Aranos' feelings have NOTHING to do with how irritated he is about Giramar's incessant sleeping around. Don't even suggest it.
Relationships: OMC/OMC, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Magic Item Please [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843894
Comments: 20
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Giramar](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Giramar).



> This is called Magic Item Please because my DM promised me a magic item if I wrote smut of our campaign. I was planning for like... 1000 words? Max? That did not happen.
> 
> Aranos belongs to me, Giramar is a friend's OC.

“You--” Aranos hissed, leaning against the table to point an accusatory finger at his too-smug companion-- “Need to stop being so damn _horny_ all the time!” His usually tightly-coiled tail flicked sharply against the chair he was sitting in, like an irritated cat.

Giramar just grinned, lazy, leaning back against his chair. “ _Why_? Am I hurting anyone?”

That earned him a flat, unamused stare. “Mm, no… except for the time you nearly got yourself arrested, or the time we were _all_ almost imprisoned by some forest spirit, or just now, when you damn near got yourself _gored_ because you couldn’t stop making eyes at some half-orc’s girlfriend!” Aranos ticked the incidents off on his fingers. “...Shall I go on?”

“Wouldn’t mind being gored by a half-orc.” Giramar muttered under his breath. 

Aranos looked like he was trying very hard not to scream. “I’m going to get a drink. Do _not_ move from that chair. You can breathe and that’s _it._ ” Giramar offered a sarcastic salute.

At least getting a drink-- well, two. Hopefully if he was occupied, Giramar wouldn’t get them… sent to another dimension or something. Being Banished once was quite enough, thanks!-- wasn’t fraught with peril, since Aranos was able to avoid the aforementioned pissed-off half-orc and even managed to get himself dwarven ale. Not for Giramar, though. He didn’t need anything to get him more unmanageable. 

Of course, he returns to Giramar chatting up one of the barmaids, although she takes little convincing to shoo off. Aranos sat, heavily, passing Giramar his drink. 

“What part of “breathe and that’s _it_ ” is so difficult to understand?” He sighed.

“Well, what do you want me to do, Ran? Lock up my dick?” Giramar asked, leaning his head on a propped-up arm. 

“Maybe! Make our lives a whole lot easier. And don’t call me that.” Aranos muttered. “I don’t like nicknames.”

“ _You_ don’t like anything. Or anyone.” Giramar took a swing of his drink, making a bit of a face. Weak stuff. 

“I like plenty of things _and_ people. Just not clerics that think only with their dick.” Aranos quipped pointedly, a frown on his face.

“Dicks.” Giramar corrected absently. 

“Well no wonder you’re an idiot, it’s two against one in the battle of wits with you.” 

“You know what I think?” Giramar asked, ignoring Aranos’ muttered _You can do that?_ and leaning in closer. “I think you’re jealous.”

“Quality over quantity, my dear.”

“Not of _that_ , I’m sure whatever you’ve got going on is fine.” Giramar waved his hand absently. “I just think you’re cranky I get more than you.”

“And the last time you “got some” you were nearly arrested, so I think there may be a bit of a flaw in your logic.” Aranos huffed. Why were they having this argument? It was so stupid. “As I said, quality over quantity. I have as much sex as I like. We aren’t all determined to fuck every person we come across.”

Giramar rolled his eyes. “No, _some_ of us just lust helplessly after married blacksmiths and _evil minotaurs_.”

“Shut up.” 

“Well, you _do_ ! Oh, and lesbian bartenders! It’s kind of _sad_ , you’ve been into so many unavailable people.” Giramar snickered. 

“That’s not true.” Aranos was blushing, face steadily turning more and more magenta as Giramar went on. “And! And just because you’re… interested doesn’t mean you have to act on that interest!” He snapped, tail lashing in irritation. It smacked against the wooden floor with a _crack_ . “This— this is stupid. Just stop trying to _fuck everything, please_.”

“All right, all right. I’ll try.” Giramar sighed like he was being asked to save the world, single-handed. 

“Good. Then we can stop talking about this.”

“No, no, I want some gossip!” Giramar grinned, leaning in even closer. “Who’re you interested in?”

“Nobody!” Aranos replied, far too quickly. “Who even said I was?”

“Um, you. “Just because you’re interested doesn’t mean you have to act on it”, yeah?” Giramar repeated, in a pretty bad approximation of Aranos’ voice.

“I don’t sound like that.” The tiefling huffed. “And… if I haven’t acted on an interest it means I’m not going to, so leave it.”

“Hmm…” Giramar ignored him. “So you’ve been _interested_ for a while, then. Is it the robot?”

“No, it’s not the-- and he’s not a robot.”

“Really? Wow, I thought, you know. Since you were always attached to him.”

“He’s a walking suit of armor and I walk around in _leather pants._ ” Aranos pointed out.

“Fair enough, fair enough. _Not_ the paladin, of course…” Giramar pretended to gag, and Aranos shuddered in disgust. 

“ _Hell_ no. Not even at my most desperate. I could be dying and I wouldn’t.”

Giramar nodded, still thinking. “Mm… not Goozvak?”

Aranos groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “Every name you add to this list is making me feel more and more insulted. Are you looking for an answer, or just to offend me?”

That got a laugh out of the half-dragon, although he did try to control it. “Oh, come on. I don’t know your tastes! I just have to list off until I get something!”

“You rather summarily _insulted_ my taste not five minutes ago.” Aranos pointed out.

“Well, I don’t know everyone you’ve been into, and the ones I did list were all, like… very non-human sorts!” Giramar insisted. “I mean, who do we know that’s at all similar to… orcs and minotaurs and monster-y type things?”

Aranos did not move his hands, but he did crack his fingers open, one golden eye looking up at the half-dragon. His entire face was practically fuschia. 

“...Oh.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You-- you get on my last damn nerve, you know that? I can’t stand you.” Aranos hissed.

“Then leave.” Giramar replied easily. “You’re right up against the door, you know.”

Aranos swallowed, licking his lips, gaze flicking around the room. “N-no.”

“Then quit _whining_ . You’ve already admitted you’re hot for me, you can’t take that back. No matter how much you complain.” Giramar said smugly. “I won’t _tell_ anyone, okay?”

“Yeah, right.” Aranos grumbled, magenta blush creeping back onto his face. “Just-- just take your pants off.”

“Wow, you _really_ don’t do this much, huh? Where’s the seduction?” Giramar asked, gently tugging Aranos deeper into the room. 

“In hell where it belongs. Just get naked so we can do this.”

“Once you get over being pissed that you’re attracted to me, this is going to be much more fun.” The half-dragon promised, lightly pulling at the laces on Aranos’ shirt.

“I’m not _upset about it_ .” Aranos insisted. He shuffled a little before giving in and leaning in, hiding his face against Giramar’s shoulder. It’s a little awkward, with the horns. “I just-- I don’t want this to be _weird_ , tomorrow. Or ever.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird.” Giramar replied sagely. “But I promise I won’t bring it up. Even if you cry.”

“I’m not going to _cry_.” Aranos huffed.

“Mm, you might a _little_.”

“I _refuse_ to believe you’re _that_ big.”

“Well, maybe not, but there are two of them, remember?”

In a little fit of both irritation and curiosity, Aranos yanked at Giramar’s pants, claws fumbling a little with the snaps. It occurred to him, briefly, that there were going to be a lot of horns and claws and _fangs_ involved.

Well, at least one of them was a cleric, right?

“Oh. I-- I expected… weirder.” Aranos hesitated a little. Should he… touch? He was loathe to admit that Giramar was right, he hadn’t done this for… a while.

“Two dicks isn’t weird enough for you?” The half-dragon quipped, grabbing Aranos’ wrist and pulling his hand down, letting out a soft sigh as a hesitant hand wrapped around him.

“You’re talking to a tiefling.” Aranos replied, who had relaxed enough to joke. This wouldn’t be weird. It would be _fun_. Hell, maybe it would be nice, to sleep with someone that wouldn’t need apologies for horns and tails and things.

He pulled away briefly to shimmy out of his own clothes, pausing only to insist Giramar take off his own shirt. He stood, blush back, trying to keep himself from covering up. It was _stupid_ , they were about to have sex. 

“That _is_ … different.” Giramar hummed, eyeing the ridges, which overlapped almost like scales. “But kinda similar to mine, don’t you think?”

“I… I have some half-dragon blood.” Aranos explained, tail curling up to hide himself.

“Didn’t peg you for being body-shy.” Giramar murmured, running a hand over Aranos’ chest, one claw delicately catching on the golden bar threaded through his nipple, making him hiss.

“Didn’t always have this body.” Aranos explained briefly, pressing his chest into Giramar’s hands. “Keep doing that.”

“Mm, it’d be fun, but I didn’t pay for a room just to fondle your chest.” Giramar chuckled, dragging Aranos back towards the bed in the corner.

“But you _could_.” Aranos whined softly, following without resistance. 

“I worked too hard to get you to take off your pants.”

“I-- well, I guess. But I didn’t exactly prepare for… this…” 

“Luckily, I am always prepared.” Giramar hummed, flicking his long tail out to grab his belt and dropping it on the bed, fishing out a bottle of oil with a grin. He sat on the edge of the bed, firmly tugging Aranos into his lap.

“Whore.”

“Watch your mouth.” 

Aranos shivered a little at his tone, biting his lip, which Giramar took note of with interest. That might be fun. 

“So… do you want help, or..?” Giramar held up the little bottle, which Aranos snatched up with a scowl.

“I can do it. When-- when did we decide I was on the bottom, by the way?” He asked.

“Mm, when you started acting like a pair of cocks was no big deal. Unless you’re backing down?”

“I am not. Shut up and let me focus.” Aranos grumbled.

“A lot of attitude for someone who nearly came from someone touching their chest.”

“I did _not--_ ”

“You’re _really_ sensitive.” Giramar said, casual as anything, lazily playing with the piercings in Aranos’ chest and pretending he didn’t notice his little, breathless moans. “How did you get these _done_? You must’ve been strapped down to the chair.”

“Sh--Shut _up_ !” Aranos whined, squirming in Giramar’s lap. “You’re insufferable, I can’t-- _don’t!_ ”

Giramar looked up from where he’d left a solid bite on Aranos’ pectorals. “Why not? Are you worried someone will see a mark from your slutty little shirts? You’ll just have to dress properly, I guess…”

“Be _quiet_ .” Aranos pleaded, as his blush spread steadily from his face to his chest. “I’m… you have got to stop _talking_ , or I’m not-- I won’t last.”

“...Seriously?” Giramar asked, looking like he was going to laugh.

“I have three fingers in my _ass_ and you’re _dirty-talking me_! You think I’m just… unaffected?!”

“I didn’t expect you to be such a bottom.”

“Shut the _fuck_ up and just put your dicks in me. Unless you’re all talk.” 

Giramar clicked his tongue, looping his tail lazily around Aranos’ waist. “Didn’t I tell you to watch your mouth?” He asked. 

Aranos narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth-- no doubt to say something rude-- but cut himself off with a soft moan, grabbing at Giramar’s shoulders. 

“Y-you just… put both in? At-- at once?” He asked weakly, trembling slightly. 

“They’re both hard, am I supposed to pick which one goes first?” Giramar asked, rolling his hips. 

“ _Fuck_.” Aranos hissed, leaning against Giramar’s chest and resting his head against his shoulder. “It’s… They’re bigger than they look.” He muttered. 

“Oh, you can take it.” Giramar replied easily. It’s slow going-- they probably should’ve prepped more-- but he bottoms out quickly enough. “Good?”

Aranos replied with a moan, grinding down against him. “Don’t fish for compliments. Fuck me.”

“You don’t expect me to do all the work, do you?” Giramar asked, giving Aranos a playful slap. “Ride the dragon, pretty boy.”

\---

Aranos _tries_. And he’s not all talk, okay, he’s slept with bigger things than a half-dragon, but there’s quite a difference when there are two _pretty sizable_ _dragon cocks splitting him open_. 

“I can’t--” He gasped, thighs shaking. Why did he agree to ride someone with such high stamina? “ _Please_ just fuck me.”

“But it’s so fun to see you try so hard!” Giramar teased. But he does feel a bit bad that Aranos was trying so hard and getting nowhere. 

With a few smooth motions, he pulled out and pushed Aranos down onto the bed, shoving into him sharply. Now that he wasn’t sitting, he let his wings open up more, unfurling loosely as he fucked Aranos almost harshly.

“You are-- _so_ tight, fuck. Is this magic or are you just like that?” The half-dragon growled, his thrusts making the bed creak dangerously. Aranos just moaned in reply, gripping the sheets under him and puncturing them a little with his claws. 

Hopefully they wouldn’t be billed for that.

“I’m-- I’m gonna cum, don’t-- do _not_ cum in me.” Aranos gasped out. Giramar nodded, pulling out and wrapping his hand as best he could around their dicks. 

Aranos slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his cry of pleasure as he came, although Giramar had no such compulsion. He felt… limp, his whole body melting into the bed. His chest is a _mess_ , and he’d be disgusted if he had the presence of mind to do so.

“...I can’t believe we just did that.” He said breathlessly. 

“No? I can.” Giramar smirked, stretching contentedly and sighing, satisfied. 

“You know what I mean.” Aranos grumbled. “Ugh. I’m filthy.”

“But you enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“...yes.”

“Don’t have to sound so upset about it.” Giramar pouted dramatically. “I promised I wasn’t going to tell anyone.”

“Yes, but I’m not going to _just forget about it_.”

“That good, huh?”

Aranos shoved him. “Just be quiet. And stop fucking everything in sight.”

  
  
  


“Mm… I’ll think about it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I said there'd be more, didn't I?

It was supposed to be once.

Actually, it wasn’t supposed to be any time, at all, but it became once when Giramar had successfully figured out Aranos’ slight, mostly-physical crush on him.

Entirely physical. Aranos spent too much time begging Giramar to stop getting them all in trouble with his stupid dicks to be attracted to him… emotionally.

But regardless, it was supposed to be once.

Unfortunately, the facts were that Aranos was, perhaps, a little deprived, and Giramar was  _ good in bed _ , and it was nice to be able to sleep with someone you were pretty sure didn’t want to kill you.

With a knife, at least. 

And, well, Giramar also understood that when you have fangs and claws and horns that things got a little messy and he did know healing spells. Unfortunately, he also was an absolute bastard, and relegated Cure Wounds solely to bloody bites and scratches.

The many, many bruises he sucked into Aranos’ neck and chest and thighs were left to heal naturally, messy, obvious blotches that came up reddish-black against his purple skin.

Not to mention the  _ other _ bruises he liked to leave. Just the thought had Aranos blushing like mad. If he let others ride his horse in favor of walking, well. He was just being generous. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aranos hesitated outside Giramar’s door, wondering if maybe it would’ve been easier to do this if they’d been sharing the room like they often had to. Or maybe it wouldn’t have, he didn’t know this sort of thing.

The door opened and he jumped, huffing softly. 

“Are you going to knock, or…?” Giramar asked, head cocked to the side. “I mean, if you want to spend another twenty minutes hanging around in the hall, be my guest…”

“You knew I was out here?”

“I have incredible Perception. Now come inside.”

“Wh-- when did I say I wanted to come inside?”

Giramar rolled his eyes. “I came to the conclusion myself since you’ve been in front of my door for  _ twenty minutes _ , pretty boy. Get in. Honestly.” He pulled the tiefling inside, ignoring his soft protests.

“You’re so irritating.” Aranos snapped as the door shut behind them. 

“Which is why you dawdled around in the hallway in front of my door instead of sleeping.” Giramar pointed out. “So. What do you want?”

“Nothing.” Aranos spun on his heel and went for the door. 

“Hey.” Giramar reached out and grabbed Aranos’ tail, tugging lightly to bring him back. The tiefling let out a strange, mangled sound that was somewhere between a hiss and a moan. 

“You’re not hurt.” Giramar hummed thoughtfully. “So you’re not looking to be healed. You need something else from me. But you don’t want to ask, so you hung around waiting to find the courage to. Am I right?”

Aranos said nothing, but his blush answered for him. 

“Aw…” Giramar stepped closer, putting one arm around Aranos’ waist and using his other hand to cup his cheek. His sharp claws dug in lightly, half-mocking, half-tender. “One time just wasn’t enough, was it, pretty boy? All you had to do was ask…”

“...’m not asking for anything.” Aranos mumbled, refusing to look the half-dragon in the eye. 

“All right then. You’re Stronger than I am. Push me off and leave.” Giramar suggested. 

Aranos didn’t move. 

“And there we have it. We both know what you want. Why not just admit it? Are you too proud to ask?” Giramar leaned closer, almost like he was going to give Aranos a kiss. The tiefling was nearly vibrating in his arms, tense as a bowstring. 

“...Unfortunately for you, I don’t like to make assumptions.” Giramar whispered, pulling away and letting Aranos go. “Tell me what you want, or I’m afraid I’ll have to send you back to your room. And don’t be ambiguous about it, either.”

Aranos glared at him, golden eyes glowing faintly as the fireplace crackled loudly, flame jumping several feet. 

“Well, pretty boy?” Giramar asked, unphased, sitting down heavily on the bed. Tieflings could do scary things, sure, but knowing what he did about the tiefling in front of him kept Giramar from taking the unspoken threats seriously. 

“I. I want to— to sleep with you.” Aranos admitted, staring holes in the floor as he turned red. Giramar wondered if he could turn him magenta permanently. 

“Why? Surely your bed is much more comfortable, without another large, winged creature in it.” Giramar replied, cheerfully ignorant. 

“That’s! That isn’t. Not like  _ that _ .” Aranos huffed. 

“Then how, exactly?”

“...I want to… have… sex…” the tiefling mumbled. 

“That’s nice.” Giramar studied his claws, as if bored. “Why are you telling me?”

“Wh— because I— Iwantyoutofuckme!” Aranos’ words spilled out in a nervous rush, and he squirmed in place. 

“Well, why didn’t you just say so, pretty boy? Could’ve saved us all this time.” Giramar asked.

“Get bent.” snapped Aranos, finally looking up to glare at him.

“I’ll bend you over my knee. I  _ know _ I told you to watch your mouth last time.”

Aranos swallowed loudly, eyes going wide. How on earth did someone with so much Charisma do so poorly at hiding what he wanted?

Well, maybe he wasn’t trying to hide it. 

Interesting.

“Come here.” Giramar sighed, and Aranos hesitantly crept over. “Why are you so shy? I didn’t tell the last time, did I?” 

“There wasn’t supposed to be a last time.” Aranos grumbled, once again refusing to look at him. 

“Well, there was. And now there’s this time, maybe, if you let it happen.” Giramar pulled Aranos into his lap. This was getting rather familiar. It… was nice, actually. Aranos was exceptionally warm, and Giramar wasn’t sure if he was aware that his tail curled around his leg to anchor him. It was cute. 

“What’s the matter? Do you not like me?”

“I like you fine, and you know it.” Aranos replied irritably.

“Are you not attracted to me?”

Aranos didn’t reply for a few minutes, slumping against the half-dragon’s chest. “...I am.”

“Was it  _ bad _ the last time?”

“No.” 

“So what’s so bad about us spending a night together? Or a few, even?” Giramar wondered.

“You’re a slut.” Aranos quipped. “And I don’t care to be a convenient outlet for you.”

“ _ Language _ .” Giramar admonished. “You’re not an outlet. You’re my friend. I think you’re just mad I figured out you’re attracted to me.”

“Should I tell you to get bent again?”

“Should I tell you to watch your mouth again, our will that have you making a mess of your pants before we start?” Giramar teased. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“No? Then I guess something else was making you weak in the knees…”

“Shut up and get your pants off.” Aranos insisted. 

“Bossy, bossy. You’ve got no business ordering me around, pretty boy.”

“And you do?”

“Sure.” Giramar smirked. “Get up, and undress. Fold your clothes, and set it on the chair. Then you can come back here.”

Aranos glared at him, and Giramar met his gaze evenly. For several moments, they were in a stalemate, and then Aranos stood, movements jerky. 

“...Do you have to stare?” He asked, fingers fumbling with his shirt.

“Of course. How can I be sure you’re following my directions if I don’t?”

Aranos’ breath escaped him in a sudden, harsh exhale. There was a faint tearing sound as his claws dug into his shirt. Hurriedly, he undid the last few buttons and tugged it off, letting it fall to the floor. 

“Ah-- I said fold them.” Giramar interjected.

“Does it  _ matter _ ?” Aranos asked.

“Yes. Do as I say.”

Aranos did, without hesitation. Giramar had to hold back a laugh. 

“And you call me a slut. You are… painfully easy.”

“Go to hell.”

“Such a  _ mouth _ on you. Perhaps I should gag you, then you wouldn’t be able to back-talk me.”

Aranos was  _ trying _ to undo the lacing of his pants-- he could follow directions if he wanted to, and he…  _ really _ wanted to-- but the suggestion, uttered so… casually, so easily, had him a little frantic. There was a sudden  _ give _ in the fabric of his pants, and he stared at the sizable tear in them.

Had he done that?

“...Do I need to fold these?” He asked weakly, trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to  _ fix _ them. Could leather just be sewn back together like that?

“Yes. And you’ll mend them later, too.” Giramar replied.

“The thought of fixing my ripped clothes should  _ not _ arouse me.” Aranos said under his breath. 

“Is it the act of fixing, or is the knowledge that you’re following my commands?” 

“Can you  _ please _ \--” Aranos hissed, holding  _ tightly _ to the chair he’d set his folded clothes on as if it were the only thing keeping him standing-- “keep your…  _ commentary _ to a minimum?”

“Why? Do you dislike my  _ commentary _ ?”

“You know damn well that’s not the issue.” 

It was rather the opposite. Giramar’s calm commands had Aranos painfully hard, cock curved up and dripping against his abdomen.

“Messy.” Giramar clicked his tongue, sounding disapproving. Aranos  _ whined _ , giving him a plaintive stare. 

Giramar just shook his head, amused. “Come.” He patted the spot on the bed next to him.

“I just might.” Aranos quipped, and it took him a few seconds to collect himself before he could walk over. He didn’t bother sitting on the bed, instead settling himself on Giramar’s lap again.

“You’re still dressed.” He complained, trying to ignore how comfortable it was to sit himself over the half-dragon’s thighs. 

“I don’t need to strip to get you off.” Was the half-dragon’s easy reply, as he settled an arm around Aranos’ waist and carefully took him in hand, making the tiefling moan and lay back against his chest.

“But I want… I thought you…” Aranos’ weak protests died quickly, occupied entirely by the large, rough hand around his dick. Damn, but it was good. At least Giramar knew what he was doing. 

“Relax, pretty boy. Let me do this my way, hm?” Giramar whispered. Aranos was  _ fun _ to play with, so eager and twitchy and sensitive. If only he didn’t have that attitude…

Aranos was not going to last long, not with how keyed up he was. All it took was Giramar, firmly sucking a painful bruise on his shoulder, before Aranos was spilling all over his hand. 

“Wasn’t that nice?” Giramar crooned, as Aranos panted weakly in his lap. “Why play hard to get? If you hadn’t been so fussy, you could’ve had this ages ago.”

“...asshole.” Aranos replied, still mad he’d worked himself up to just get a handjob. He could’ve done that himself. 

“Just when I think I’ve managed to get that attitude out of you.” Giramar sighed, dramatically. “Can’t be helped, I guess. Lay down, then.”

“What?” Aranos asked, still looking a little dazed.

“Well, do you want me to fuck you or not?”

That had Aranos moving quickly enough, laying himself on his belly to give Giramar plenty of room to work. His spade-tipped tail arched elegantly over his back, inviting.  _ Nothing in the way _ . Aranos even wiggled his hips a little, although he felt a bit stupid doing so. 

Giramar undressed easily, since he was loosely clothed for sleep before Aranos had come to make a fool of himself. 

“You’re very cute.” The half-dragon chuckled. “Even if you don’t like to admit it.” He added at the tiefling’s annoyed little hiss. 

“Exceptionally cute, I have to say.” Giramar fished out oil from his bags and straddled Aranos’ thighs, keeping him nice and still as he slicked up a few fingers. “Even with your attitude. What I don’t get--” He said conversationally, as though he wasn’t steadily working his fingers into the man beneath him-- “is why you insist on it. You get all puffed up, but when it comes down to it, here you are, starry-eyed over a slight command, rock-hard because I suggested I might, possibly, gag or spank you, tripping over yourself to lay out on my bed…”

Aranos was squirming  _ desperately _ on the bed, trying and failing to muffle the pitchy whines that were building up in his throat. “I-- I-- please…” he gasped, trying to get Giramar to  _ stop _ teasing him with his fingers and just get on with it. “Just--  _ please _ , fuck--”

“Yes, yes, I know, I know.” Giramar sighed, withdrawing his fingers and carefully lining himself up. He pushes in with a slow, smooth thrust, still slightly impressed Aranos could take him so easily. Pressing himself against the tiefling’s back, he leaned down to give him a playful kiss.

“You beg so  _ nicely _ , pretty boy.” He whispered.

Aranos moans loudly when Giramar starts fucking him, and when the half-dragon has the brilliant idea to grab and tug one of his horns, the tiefling damn near  _ howls _ in pleasure. No wonder he didn’t like people touching his horns! Poor thing would die of shame if someone heard him making those noises.

Of course, Giramar is pretty sure the whole damn inn can hear him, but still. 

“That good?” He teased, taking Aranos’ eager moans as an enthusiastic  _ yes _ . “See, if you stopped being so stubborn, pretty boy, you could have this every damn night.”

Aranos whined, whole body trembling like a leaf in a gale. “I, I-- oh, gods…”

Giramar grins, all teeth, grinding against him. “Are you going to cum  _ again _ ? Good… let me cum in you, I’ll clean up, promise.” He purred. Aranos gasps out a  _ yes _ , and Giramar releases his sleek horn so the tiefling can drop, limp and exhausted, under him. 

He’s out of breath, actually, which is uncommon. It seems he has to put some effort in. 

Aranos groaned softly. “...I can’t believe I let you cum in me.” He complained, not moving from his place beneath the half-dragon.

“The  _ moment _ I pull out, your attitude comes back.” Giramar replied, rolling his eyes. 

“Well, if you plan to fuck the attitude out…”

“Be  _ quiet _ for once. Always snarking.”

“You be quiet. Clean me up like you promised.”

“Clean yourself, pretty boy.” Giramar flicked one of Aranos’ pointed ears lightly. 

Aranos  _ glared _ , but snapped his fingers (always a show-off) and a little shimmer of golden sparkles fell down his body. “Asshole. Now shut up, I want to sleep.”

“Bossy, bossy.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, they all had a perfectly normal breakfast. Zeno and Goozvak argued the finer points of breaking and entering, Giramar appropriated half their food while they argued, and Aranos did his best to pretend he wasn’t still asleep at the table.

“Hey, um… Giramar, my friend, can I ask you a question?” Goozvak asked suddenly. Giramar hummed an affirmative around his breakfast.

“Uh… what were you  _ doing _ last night? It sounded like you were, how should I say, implanting your seed in many a fertile garden of men or, ladies, I'm not one to generalize. Definitely, showing them a good time.”

Aranos choked, loudly, on his water, coughing harshly to try and get it out of his lungs. Their new Firbolg friend patted his back roughly to try and help.

Giramar just shrugged. “I’m a talented man.” He replied, smirking around his glass. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aranos and Giramar discuss their... feelings.

Giramar was flirting with the Firbolg.

Which. Was expected, of course. He’s taller than Maulgrim was, and was also in possession of genitalia, presumably. He was Giramar’s  _ type _ . (Which was anyone and anything with sentience and something fuckable). The height was a bonus, really. Aranos got it, it’s hard to find something bigger and theoretically scarier than you when you’re a big, horned, half-human-ish  _ thing _ . 

Actually, Aranos was a little surprised it had taken a few days for Giramar to cozy up to Chyron by the fire and get talking. Maybe he was still thinking of that  _ forest god _ or whatever the hell it was. ...Did he know his tail swished along the ground when he was flirting?

It was a good thing. Aranos got his fix-- twice, in fact-- and  _ sure _ , Giramar was a good lay but that was it. He can find other people, they’re always travelling, and hopefully if the half-dragon would pay attention to someone else Aranos would be able to smother the urge that gets him crawling to Giramar’s bed like a little lovesick puppy, eagerly wagging his tail for a scrap of attention. 

Aranos dragged his eyes away from the  _ very _ uncomfortable-looking Firbolg and tried to focus, again, on his sewing. His damn pants were still ripped, and he didn’t trust Mending for leather. It always fucked up somehow. And in any case, none of them know the damn spell, and he’d rather not be reduced to a single pair of pants. Who knows if these will get ripped, too? 

“Fuck.” He muttered. His angry sewing (by campfire, of all things) had come to its natural conclusion, with a needle jammed into his finger. Scowling, he put the bleeding digit in his mouth, glad that at least black leather wouldn’t show any blood if it had spilled. 

Giramar is still flirting. 

Interesting. Flirt he may be but  _ pushy _ , generally, he was not. (Aranos wasn’t sure why he’d been determined worth  _ pushing _ .) If someone didn’t respond or wasn’t interested, Giramar had no trouble backing off and setting his sights on someone else. Well, unless he was offered something unusual, like Giant Forest God or… or, well, a Firbolg, maybe. Hm.

So Aranos isn’t something particularly special. That’s good.

It  _ is _ .

Satisfied he’s not still bleeding, Aranos got back to his sewing, watching Giramar from the corner of his eye. The half-dragon was  _ staring _ at him, but when Aranos looked up he quickly looked away.  _ What the hell _ . 

“I’m going to sleep.” He announced loudly, rolling up his pants and shoving them into his bag.

“Aw, you don’t want my Watch?” Zeno asked, looking up from his game of Dragon Checkers (and getting very badly swindled by Goozvak in the process).

“I will  _ never _ owe you a favor so big it’ll have me staying up for Watch. Besides, I can’t Perceive for shit, as you well know.” Aranos replied, arranging his bedroll into the best approximation of comfort you could get on dirt and curling up under his blanket. “And Goozvak flipped your pieces.”

He lets the sounds of the fire, Silver’s sleepy chirps, and Zeno arguing with Goozvak distract him enough to fall asleep. There was something comforting about it. At least some things never changed. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Of course, that did mean Aranos was still woken up at an unholy hour.

“Fuck  _ off _ .” He mumbled, turning and hiding his face in his arms.

“We’re leaving! Unless you wanna walk after us!” Zeno called. 

“Taking horse!” Chirped Silver, who was hopping around by Aranos’ face. 

“...’m comin’...” Aranos got up, rubbing his face and yawning. They’re half-packed, and he can tie up his bedroll with his eyes closed by now. It takes a little more work to swing up on the horse, but Bastard (He Knows What He Did) was a very good boy and didn’t require a particularly  _ awake _ rider to go where he had to be.

Not to mention the cart they’d decided to buy, which meant no doubling back or trading off. Unfortunately, it also meant he had to endure the rest of his teammates. First thing in the morning.

“See, that’s why I  _ said _ , let Silver or Stabby wake him up, they’re like, the only ones that can dodge his tail.” Zeno explained to the perpetually-nervous Firbolg. “He’s grumpy if he doesn’t get all his beauty sleep. Right, Aranos?”

“I’m--” Aranos cut himself off with a yawn. “I’m awake enough to stab you.” 

“Okay. He’s really only scary when he’s lighting shit on fire.”

“...’m gonna burn your checkers set.”

“Basically harmless!” Zeno grinned, which settled the Firbolg a little. 

“Aw, don’t worry, Chyron. I’ll protect you from the scary little tiefling!” Giramar added, practically clinging to Firbolg. Aranos resisted rolling his eyes only because he was too tired to do so. 

“W-well, okay, th-thanks…” Chyron stuttered.

“I’m not  _ little _ .” Aranos grumbled, which earned him a round of snickers from the cart. “Fuck you all. I’m scouting ahead.” He snapped the reins lightly against Bastard (He Knows What He Did)’s neck, urging the horse into a gentle trot.

“But… I thought his Perception was really bad…” Chyron said, confused.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aranos didn’t bother circling back, instead hanging around at the top of a small hill and letting Bastard (He Knows What He Did) enjoy a little rest and some fresh grass. 

“Who does he think he is?!” Aranos asked the air, and maybe the horse.

Bastard (He Knows What He Did) only flicked an ear, enjoying his grass.

“I mean-- we aren’t  _ together _ , I get that. But, like, what? Yeah, we have sex a few times and then he’s like, whatever, this guy is way hotter, so… bye! What the hell is that?” Aranos huffed. “And! And he’s  _ glued _ to this guy like a teenager with a crush! I mean… hello? What the fuck? I’m hot as hell, literally, he could have some manners and… uh… break up with me? Can we do that if we’re not actually a thing?”

Bastard (He Knows What He Did) let out a soft snort. Aranos sighed and patted his neck.

“I guess you wouldn’t know. Count yourself lucky, boy.”

A few minutes later, the rest of the group appeared, cresting the low hills, and Aranos rode down to meet them.

“Anyone trying to kill us?” Zeno asked.

“Nothing but grass and trees.” Aranos shrugged.

“Well, theoretically, there could be, you know,  _ invisible _ people who want to kill us.” Goozvak suggested. 

“Very bad!” Silver croaked. 

“Open hillsides are bad places to attack people.” Zeno pointed out.

“Well, yes, but that’s why they’re  _ invisible _ , so they can  _ ambush _ us.” Goozvak explained. 

“Unless someone decided to leave their magic-user because ‘cause they wasted all their spell slots on  _ Invisibility _ in order to ambush random people on open land, I think we’re fine.” Aranos sighed. “Come on, I’d like to get where we’re going before midnight.”

“We have plenty of daylight.” Giramar hummed. He was full-on  _ snuggling _ with Chyron, who was looking like he wanted to be  _ anywhere _ else.

“Yes, and I’d like to get to town before dark. Make sure we have  _ plenty _ of room at the inn. Let’s  _ go. _ ” Aranos snapped. He had to change his grip on the reins when he noticed the leather was smoking slightly. Damn it all. 

There were several moments of uncomfortable silence before Goozvak began to dig in his bag.

“Well, I say, there is a lot of time between us and the next village, or town, and we should have some fun while we are on our way.” The bard declared, holding up his lute. 

“Oh, good idea! I can play too!” Giramar offered, taking out the wood flute he’d recently purchased. “More or less, anyways.” At least he wasn’t leaning against the Firbolg anymore. 

“Uh, Giramar, do you know any… good  _ drinking _ songs, that you would maybe play at a tavern, or a bar, and dance on the tables, like that?” Goozvak asked. 

“I might know a few.” Giramar grinned.

The party is easily drawn into singing, but Aranos just sighs, spurring Bastard (He Knows What He Did) on, as far as he can without looking like he was just riding separately. No doubt someone would ask about his attitude soon, and he doesn’t feel up for answering questions, tugging his hood over his head. 

It’s well into the evening when they stop. The hills have given way to thickening clusters of trees, until eventually they were in a light wood. The trees would offer good cover, and hopefully some food. Chyron, Stabby, and Silver formed a strange little party to find fresh water and perhaps some meat, if they could. Otherwise it was potato and cabbage for everyone. 

Aranos loosed Bastard (He Knows What He Did)’s reigns, looping them around a low branch to allow the horse some rest after a day of travel. He can hear the sounds of camp setting up, but decides the poor horse needs some grooming. He brushes out Bastard (He Knows What He Did)’s mane, braiding it to keep it from getting overtangled.

“Don’t worry, boy. When we get to town I’ll give the groom extra coin for a proper looking-over. And apples, too.” Aranos promised, petting the horse’s nose. “Yes. Only the best for you.” He sighed, giving the horse a little pat. “Lucky you. All you know are grand trips and sugar cubes. Best keep it that way, hm?” Reluctantly, Aranos turned away from Bastard (He Knows What He Did) and pulled the strings of his cape, letting it slip off and folding it neatly for his bag. No sense sitting around the fire and letting twigs and leaves stick to it. 

Still, he’s used enough to his cape that walking in just his shirt and pants feels oddly close to naked. Or maybe that’s the feeling of Giramar’s eyes boring into him. Valiantly, Aranos ignored him, shooing Zeno away from the campfire to light it himself. Paladins. 

Eventually there’s nothing to do but sit and wait for dinner to be ready. They’re low on spices but should be able to buy more tomorrow, and Aranos sat back against his bedroll, watching the pot hung over the fire bubble with water and vegetables as Goozvak and Zeno started up Dragon Checkers.

A soft  _ flump _ comes from behind him, but Aranos stares straight ahead until a large, leathery wing curls loosely around him.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Giramar muttered, and Aranos is, thankfully, saved from replying when their friends return, standing quickly.

“You’re back. Catch anything?” He asked.

“Fish! Fish-fish-fish.” Silver declared, as Chyron held up a short line of silvery fish.

“Great, less work, more food.” Zeno declared, getting up to help Chyron dress the fish as Silver and Stabby hopped up into the cart to watch the Dragon Checkers just below (which Goozvak was fixing, again.)

“I guess that means more water, too?” Aranos asked, poking at the fire to keep it even.

“Yeah, filled everything up.” Stabby nodded, more focused on the game of Checkers.

“Great. I’m taking a walk. Maybe I can find us some mushrooms.” Aranos declared, checking the strap of his bag.

“Mushrooms?” Goozvak asked eagerly.

“For eating. Get your own drugs.” Aranos muttered. “And don’t Send for me unless you’re  _ dying _ . No,  _ dead _ .” He turned and set off into the woods, careful to stir up the fallen leaves enough to leave a trail back.

He walks for a while, until the light of the campfire is a dim glow in the distance. Sighing, Aranos sat on a fallen log, debating the merits of lighting his own fire. It wasn’t a cold night.

“I know you’re here. My Perception might be shit, but I’m not stupid enough to think you didn’t chase after me.” Aranos called into the darkness, pretending he couldn’t See through the darkness well enough to notice an entire half-dragon.

A soft rustling of leaves, and there Giramar was, sitting himself  _ far _ too close on the log.

“You’re in a mood today.” He remarked, casual as you please.

“Am I? And you’re still here trying to be all cozy. Foolish of you.” Aranos muttered, levelling the other man a glare. “Why  _ are _ you here? Shouldn’t you be snuggling up to your new  _ friend _ ?”

“Mm, I think I’m scaring him a little. Do you think I come on too strongly? Be honest.”

“You’re a penile force of nature.” Aranos replied dryly, tail twitching in annoyance. “Like a tornado. Can’t be stopped, only hidden away from.”

“I will elect to take that as a compliment.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Aranos quipped. “You know, when people take midnight strolls in the forest, they usually want to be left alone.”

“I couldn’t leave you defenseless, now could I?” Giramar asked, slowly unfurling one large wing and inching it over to wrap around Aranos. The tiefling scowled and slapped it back with his tail. 

“How  _ kind _ of you to be concerned for me. At least I can count on you making sure I don’t suffer  _ bodily  _ harm.” Aranos growled. “Even a self-serving cleric is a cleric, it seems.”

“...And what is  _ that _ supposed to mean?” Giramar pulled his wings back, far away from Aranos’ angrily lashing tail. 

“What  _ could  _ it mean, hm. Is your infinite Wisdom failing you?” Aranos hissed, fangs bared. “I can only expect you to ensure your playthings are fit and healthy so you can play with one after you get bored of another.”

“Excuse me?” Giramar’s voice was icy, steam clouding the air around him. 

“You  _ heard _ me. Didn’t I tell you, I wasn’t interested in being an  _ outlet _ for you! Of course I’m an idiot, but I thought you  _ agreed _ with me. But here I go, after getting into bed with you a handful of times, I suppose you got bored and had to put me aside for the exciting  _ new _ toy that’s joined our party!” 

Aranos was panting, having spit out the entire rant in a single breath. His eyes glowed like lanterns in the dark as a strange breeze picked up, rustling the leaves on the ground and mixing them with ghostly whispers. Despite the late hour it was hot, like a desert at high noon, the air dry and crackling. 

“You’re going to catch the floor on fire.” Giramar murmured after a few moments. 

Aranos took a step forward and punched Giramar in the face.

“Agh!” He groaned, reeling back and clutching his hand. “Are you made of stone?”

Giramar sighed, rubbing at his jaw. That would certainly bruise come morning. “Give me your hand.” He put his out, but Aranos just bared his teeth. “Do you want to wake up with a broken wrist? Give me your hand.”

Reluctantly, Aranos put his aching hand in Giramar’s, trying to hide the sigh of relief as the half-dragon gently rubbed his thumbs over his wrist and murmured the spell to Cure Wounds. 

“Do you feel better?” Giramar asked, letting Aranos pull his hand away.

“Ask me after I’ve hit you a few more times.” Aranos replied. “...but my wrist is fine.”

“I think we need to talk.”

“I think you need to go to hell, and find a corner far from mine.”

“Aranos…” Giramar murmured, inching closer. When he didn’t get Magic Missile to the face or an angry tail whipping at him, he put an arm around the tiefling, pulling him flush against him. His tail twisted gently around Aranos’ ankle, brushed by the nervous little twitches from the tiefling’s own tail.

Aranos closed his eyes, but he let Giramar cup his cheek with a gentle, clawed hand. 

“Don’t…” He whispered, voice small and wavering. “Don’t do this to me, Giramar, please.”

“I have to.” Giramar insisted, soft and urgent. He leaned impossibly closer, pulling Aranos into a gentle kiss.

The tiefling let out a sound like a wounded animal, whole body trembling. 

“Please.” He repeated weakly, not knowing if he wanted to beg for more or run away.

“Aranos…” Giramar pressed their foreheads together. The woods around them was cooling by degrees. “I… I care about you a great deal. You’re special to me. I want you to know that.”

“...I’d ask if you were planning to leave us, but you’re the type to take off and leave a dramatic note behind.” Aranos replied. 

“Be serious a moment!” Giramar insisted. “I meant what I said, Aranos.”

“I am finding it hard to believe, I must admit. If you had perhaps told me this  _ before _ casting me aside, I would be less skeptical.”

“I didn’t  _ cast you aside _ .”

“Then what in hell was all this shit you’ve been doing?!”

Giramar was quiet for several long minutes. Aranos was about to demand he simply admit defeat and leave him  _ alone _ when there was a mumbled:

“ _ I was trying to make you jealous. _ ”

Aranos processed this for a few  _ more _ minutes. 

“Why--” He asked, a low growl in his voice-- “would I be  _ jealous _ that you had moved on from one fucktoy to another? I was  _ hurt _ , yet, but  _ jealous _ ?”

“I may not have… thought this plan through, entirely.”

“No, you didn’t. And now you want me to… what. Fall into your arms like a swooning maiden?”

“...it would be nice.”

“Well, I’m not doing that.” Aranos huffed. “We’ve been out here long enough. Let’s go back, before they set out a search party. And maybe, once I’ve had a good night’s sleep, I’ll think about what you’ve said.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was, at least, gratifying to see everyone forming a search party when they got back.

“Sorry, sorry. We got lost. Should’ve stayed closer by.” Aranos fell heavily onto his bedroll. 

“...Uh, why is Giramar’s face all red?” Zeno asked.

“Hit a branch.”

“That kinda looks like a fist to the face.”

“It was a solid branch.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aranos and Giramar Talk and figure their shit out.

At least punching Giramar in the face had relieved some of the tension between them. Aranos was even convinced to join in on some singing as they continued on their way (although nothing would stop him from growling and threatening upon waking up).

They made good time, stopping only once when Silver launched himself out of the cart to grab a copper coin he’d noticed off the side of the road. 

Aranos spends most of the time deep in thought, mulling over the previous night. He’s not sure how to feel about all of it, although he finds his overlying emotion is just… annoyance. 

Sure, he could be cagey and closed off about his true feelings, but he’s still  _ pretty damn sure _ things would be a lot easier if Giramar had just been straightforward about his feelings right off the bat instead of setting up a ridiculous ploy in an attempt to… get Aranos jealous enough to admit his…

Admit what, exactly? Apparently Giramar  _ cared _ about him, which he had already figured out, thanks. He wouldn’t have bothered gently coaxing Aranos into bed with him (several times, since Aranos struggled with just  _ asking _ ) if he didn’t  _ care _ . 

Nor would he tenderly hold Aranos’ hand and cast Cure Wounds after those wounds came from being punched in the face if he didn’t care. 

Frankly it had been a little underwhelming.

“I think I might be giving up on people, boy.” Aranos muttered. Bastard (He Knows What He Did) offered a soft snort, and not for the first time Aranos debated the merits of learning Speak to Animals. “At least you make sense. Best horse I could ever ask for.”

_ Maybe two sugar cubes, when we get to town. _

The town was… smaller than he’d hoped. Not tiny, thank goodness, but…

“When can we get to a  _ city _ ? A  _ proper _ city, with a library and an Earl, at least, instead of a handful of pubs and some shit Baron’s second cousin?” Aranos complained.

“I agree, we need some real blacksmiths… and a leatherworker, possibly.” Zeno sighed. 

“Well, at least, these small towns, you can say, do not have much  _ entertainment _ , and so, we can get some money, playing some good songs.” Goozvak pointed out. 

“I want to spend the night in a  _ castle _ ,” Aranos whined. “Or a keep. I’ll take a house with a single maid, honestly. How is it by now we aren’t owed any favors by important people? We should forget questing for the sake of noble goals and start going after nobles with cash.”

“So, what you are saying is, you are looking for a  _ sugar daddy _ , of sorts.” Goozvak replied.

“Is that so wrong?”

“No, no, Aranos has a point. Maybe we should start doing that.” Zeno said thoughtfully.

“I think we should find a place to sleep before we try and figure out how to convince a Proper Earl to fund… this.” Giramar waved around at all of them.

“I’m sure you could convince him.” Aranos muttered under his breath. 

“There’s some very negative energy here.” Chyron piped up nervously. His little lamb bleated.

“ _ Is _ there. Interesting.” Aranos rolled his eyes, tugging the reins to lead his horse on. 

Most fortunately, they manage to find rooms for the night, and even a good stable for the horses. Aranos hung around, feeding treats to Bastard (He Knows What He Did) and generally hiding away from everyone, but he can’t stay out all night. 

Eventually, he sulked back to the inn, slipping to a table in the furthest corner and trying to stay out of sight. Useless in the face of a keen half-dragon’s Perception, of course.

“There you are. I was starting to worry.” Giramar hummed, settling on the chair across Aranos.

“Leave me alone. I’m not going to fuck you.” Aranos snapped in reply.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I want to make it clear, I’m still quite upset with you.” Aranos insisted, as the door shut behind them. Giramar just grinned, all teeth, dragging him to bed.

“Oh, I’ll make you feel better, pretty boy.” He promised.

“Yes… I think you will.” Aranos agreed, pulling Giramar into a passionate kiss. The half-dragon kissed him back, entirely unaware Aranos was really only doing this because he needed his hands on him for a full minute.

Giramar pulled away from the kiss, frowning. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“ _ That _ . I felt the magic, Aranos.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” The tiefling replied smugly, extricating himself from Giramar and tossing himself on the bed. “Are you going to undress or what?”

He’s given a suspicious, narrow-eyed glare, but Aranos just kept smirking. Carefully, Giramar took off his shirt, handling it gingerly like it was going to burst into flames. When it did not so much as smolder, he got to work on his pants.

“What the  _ fuck _ is  _ this _ ?!” He yelped, which sent Aranos into a fit of giggles. 

“Do you like it?” Aranos asked, admiring the sleek bands of gold tightly woven around the half-dragon’s cocks. “It’s even purple in spots, isn’t it nice? I worked very hard on them.”

“What the  _ fuck _ .” Giramar repeated. “It-- it’s painful, what… is this a joke?”

“No joke, I’m afraid.” Aranos sighed contentedly. “But, you know, I’ve been thinking. I didn’t want you apologizing for being a tremendous dickhead just to get some ass again, you know? So I thought… well, let’s see how sincere you are. It’ll be handy on the road, too.”

“...The-- wh-- don’t tell you you plan to have this on me  _ all the time _ ?” Giramar hissed.

“Well, no, that would be silly. And I’m sure you’ll figure out how to enjoy yourself with it on. You’re clever like that.” Aranos looked very pleased with himself, tail lazily swishing through the air, eyes glowing as his fangs flash in a grin.

For a moment he looks far too regal to be sprawled out on a cheap bed, and then the firelight shifts and he’s back to his normal self.

“Now, then. Perhaps you can convince me to take it off, hm?” 

Giramar growled, stalking over to the bed and looming over Aranos.

“Take. It. Off.”

“I said  _ convince _ , not threaten. I already know you won’t hurt me.”

With an irritable snarl, Giramar settled himself over Aranos, bracketing him with his arms.

“How can I take care of you with them all tied up, pretty boy?” 

“Oh, I’m quite easy to please, I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” Aranos grinned, enormously entertained by how frustrated he’d made the half-dragon. And they weren’t even doing anything yet!

“I can live without dick. I’m not a wanton whore like you." Aranos flicked his tail, giving his companion a very satisfying slap.

Giramar hissed, although it didn't sound like he was exactly  _ upset _ . "Did you just spank me with your tail?"

"Mm, it's been used for more nefarious purposes." The tiefling replied coyly. “Maybe I’ll introduce you to its many, many abilities some time. It is incredibly… flexible.”

Giramar let out a soft groan of frustration. “Come on, you don’t mean to keep this on me all night.” He very much  _ hoped _ Aranos did not plan for that, at least.

“Don’t think too far ahead, my dear. Why not put that mouth to better use than complaining?” Aranos suggested, tail curving over his body and pointing, spade-tipped, exactly where he wanted Giramar to go. 

“You’re lucky I like you.” Giramar muttered, fighting with the lacing of Aranos’ tight pants before dragging them down and tossing them to the floor. 

“You’re lucky I’m willing to give you a chance.” Aranos replied, a slight, imperious frown on his face. 

Giramar muttered something under his breath, likely rude, and Aranos graciously ignored it in favor of getting the half-dragon between his legs faster.

“Mm… ah, you’re good at this…” Aranos sighed, watching through half-lidded eyes as Giramar licked a slow stripe up his dick before sucking lightly at the head. His pointed tail waved through the air contentedly as he shifted, trying to get  _ more _ .

“Of course I am.” Giramar kept his  _ attentions _ light, almost playful, making Aranos whine.

“You are not convincing me, dragon.” The tiefling complained. “Get to work!”

Giramar hummed thoughtfully. “Well, all right, if that’s what you want.” He tugged Aranos closer, spreading his legs further so he could get to his real target.

Aranos yelped at the first press of Giramar’s tongue against his hole, squirming on the sheets like he didn’t know what to do. 

“Wh--what-- are y--  _ oh… _ ” His initial complaints quickly faded under the man’s wicked tongue, and Aranos  _ melted _ , moaning softly as Giramar worked him open. 

This was ridiculous. How was Aranos meant to stay mad at him? He was just too  _ good _ . He spread his legs wider, eagerly grabbing at Giramar’s hair.  _ So good. So, so, so good--! _

“I’m-- I’m gonna  _ cum _ .” Aranos gasped, surprised at how quickly he was nearing his peak. “I’m gonna cum, please, I’m so close--”

Giramar pulled away, sitting back on his heels. Aranos whined pathetically, trying to grab for him. 

“No! I was so close, what the hell?!”

“Release me, pretty boy. And maybe I’ll do something about it.” Giramar smirked. He was pretty desperate himself, cocks straining helplessly against the magical golden cages. 

“Fuck you! That was  _ not _ the deal!” Aranos hissed, a little frantic.

“You requested I  _ convince you _ . Are you not convinced?”

“Come-- come here.” With a few muttered words and a delicate-looking key, Aranos snapped off the cages, much to Giramar’s relief. 

Finally free to do what he wanted, Giramar quickly flipped Aranos onto his belly, pressing one broad hand down, firmly, between his shoulder blades and wrapping the other around the base of the tiefling’s purple tail, pulling his hips up. 

Aranos let out a strangled moan at the feeling of pleasure-pain that came from his tail being manhandled, eagerly arching his back for easy access.

Giramar held Aranos’ tail tightly as he pushed in, using his grip to drag the tiefling back to meet his thrusts.

“Oh f-fuck!  _ FUCK!  _ I-if this is what you’re like with a f-few minutes-- oh!-- I’m gonna keep you locked up all the d-damn  _ time _ !” Aranos barely managed to choke out the words, gripping the bed under him for dear life. It seemed like Giramar wanted a little revenge.

“Don’t-- even--  _ think-- _ about it, pretty boy.” Giramar panted. “Or next time I’ll tie you down and edge you until you cry.”

Well, that sounded like a pretty good deal to Aranos, frankly. 

It must’ve sounded pretty damn good to Giramar, too, since the half-dragon, impossibly, picked up the pace, slamming into Aranos harshly, setting him nearly cross-eyed.

“G-Giramar, yes…  _ yes _ , dragon, oh… I’m cumming, please--  _ cum in me!” _ Aranos begged, sleek tail going stiff as he spilled onto the sheets, breath coming in sharp gasps. 

Giramar growled, low and vicious, as he sank sharp teeth into Aranos’ shoulder (making the tiefling gasp), filling him up with a soft, satisfied purr. 

Smug bastard.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So.” Aranos said, after several minutes, still a bit dazed by the unexpected intensity his teasing had prompted. “We should talk.”

Giramar sighed, pulling Aranos flush against him. “Must we?”

“Yes. I’m not… dealing with all of this bullshit again.” 

“All right, all right… what is it, then?”

Aranos propped his head up on his fist, studying Giramar intently. “First off… this  _ jealousy _ nonsense. I don’t want that to happen again, or anything like it. Just… talk to me. That was ridiculous.”

“I’ve already admitted it was stupid.” Girmar muttered.

“Which is the only reason you are here to have this conversation.” Aranos pointed out. “Furthermore, and honestly, more importantly: you are… way too horny.”

“...that’s important?” Giramar asked, confused. 

“Yes, you have more sex in, like, a  _ day _ than I do in a month! We just aren’t compatible.”

“You  _ could _ have  _ more _ sex.” Giramar suggested, looking… very predatory.

“No, I could not. And I don’t want to, anyways. Honestly, I’m kind of surprised I’ve  _ been _ like this. Maybe you’re just new and exciting. Point being--” Aranos shrugged-- “There is no way we could satisfy each other.”

“What are you saying?” Giramar asked, looking rather hurt. “That we can’t… do this?”

“Not at all!” Aranos frowned a little, thoughtful. “I’ll be straightforward about this: I have no issue with you having sex with other people.”

“ _ WHAT?! _ ” Giramar stared, baffled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, exactly that. We travel all the time, there’s always a few pretty faces around… I wouldn’t be upset if you want to spend some time in other people’s beds… Just as long as you tell me.” Aranos explained. “Don’t go behind my back, you know? I mean, it’s either that, or you’re  _ going _ to be spending many, many nights with your hand for company.”

Giramar still looked uncertain. “So… you’re saying we can be together…  _ and _ I can still sleep around? And you’re okay with that?”

“Sure.” Aranos stretched a little, settling himself more comfortably. “You’re not just with me for the sex, are you?”

“Wh-- well, no, not really…” Giramar muttered, avoiding Aranos’ gaze. “I said I cared about you…”

“Well then! I don’t see an issue. We can be…  _ emotionally _ exclusive, I’ll be happy with that.”

“I have to admit, I’ve never… even considered something like that before.”

“You can consider it now.” Aranos suggested. “Mm. It’s late. We should rest or tomorrow will be hell.”

“It always is, when you wake up. Maybe I’ll ride the horse and you can take a nap in the cart.”

“Bastard (He Knows What He Did) doesn’t like other riders. As tempting as the idea is…”

“All right, all right. Sleep then, pretty boy.” Giramar murmured, daring to lean in to give Aranos a soft kiss on the cheek. It earned him a happy little hum as the tiefling snuggled closer.

This just might work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, look at that, they CAN be grown-up about things! This is the end of this story, but don't worry... I've got more stuff in the works. Admittedly, it is just porn, so... I'll post a nice lil' series of non-linear horny, yknow, if you want.

**Author's Note:**

> Well
> 
> Hope you liked that


End file.
